A Friend in Trouble

"No answer." Joe sighed and looked away from the screen of his phone to focus on the road. It was raining slightly again, and he felt cold, probably due to the chilly weather and the lingering effects of the episode he had only a half-hour earlier.

In his periphery, Frank drove with single-minded concentration, partly because of the rain, and partly to try and keep his emotions hidden. But Joe could see that Frank was silently fuming, not at all happy with their second impromptu visit to their friend's farm, knowing that something horrible and violent waited for them. Joe knew that his brother's ire was not aimed at him per se, but at the situation, which was largely out of their control. And Frank always preferred to be in control.

"Chet used to say that his mom and dad liked to go to the farmer's market in Sterling after service," Frank muttered after a while. Sterling was a smaller town only a few miles away from Bayport and a lot of locals liked to drive there to buy fresh produce on Sundays. "They are probably still out."

"Can't get a hold of Chet either."

"Not if he's out of commission like you said," Frank said "What exactly did you see, Joe?"

"Wind, again, too damn heavy wind to be precise," Joe repeated what he had seen in his lurid vision. The images had come out of nowhere and engulfed his entire mind, causing him to pass out in front of his brother from the strain. "Strong enough to twist those massive oaks they have by the creek. Then there's screaming, high-pitched, wailing, it's inhuman. And there is just a glimpse of Chet on the ground before a black cloud wraps around the entire area like a thick curtain."

The vision had been way more intense and frightening than his recurring nightmares. He had a feeling that the name 'Cailleach' had something to do with the way it had hit him without warning, almost as if the name itself had opened up a window for him to take a peek at what was happening. Just like the dreams, the images hadn't been very clear, but he had seen his friend's pale face as he lay there on the muddy bank of the creek on the other side of the farm. Mostly what he had gotten were impressions; the defiance in that neverending howling, agonising pain, and incredible rage that knew no bounds. All those emotions were mixed in a whirlwind of destructive power that had started to rise around Chet's prone body. Even as the vision unfolded, he knew without a doubt that whatever creature had gotten hold of their friend was about to rob him of his life… and probably worse.

He shuddered as the blurry, disjointed images of the vision stumbled around his mind, urging him along. That acute sense of 'wrong' was back in full force, compelling him towards the danger, instead of away from it. And for all his trepidation at going back there again, putting his own and his brother's lives at risk, a feeling deep down had him convinced that they were the only ones around to deal with this menace.

"Are you sure it was Chet?" Frank asked, wrenching him back from his thoughts.

"Yeah, I saw his face," Joe replied. There was no mistake. "He looked out of it. He was wearing that god-awful pineapple-print, Hawaiian shirt of his and a pair of shorts. I don't think he went out to town at all."

"None of this fills me with hope brother," Frank voiced Joe's fears out loud. "Sounds like we are jumping into the thick of it once again with no clue about what's going on."

"I know," Joe agreed softly. They only had his bizarre nightmares, feelings, visions and a gut feeling to propel them along. "But we can't let them take him."

"No, we can't," It was Frank's turn to sigh quietly. "Not if we can do something about it. How are you feeling?"

"Headache is almost gone," Joe replied truthfully. "Just feeling a bit shaky and cold."

"There are some power bars in the glove compartment," Frank nodded at the dashboard. "Maybe that'll help."

Joe found the snack and started to chew. The sugar actually helped to calm down his frayed nerves a little bit. "Thanks, Frank, you want one?"

"I'm good."

They continued the rest of the drive in silence, each lost in their own thoughts about what was waiting for them as they reached their destination and how they were going to deal with whatever they were going to find. Once they entered the driveway of the Mortons, Joe directed Frank to drive to the back of their yard instead of going towards the front porch as they usually did.

"Pull over by the toolshed," he said, unbuckling. "Let's walk from there."

The small shed was located next to the ground where now only a massive pile of rubble existed, instead of the old barn that used to be there. There was a line of willow trees behind it, and the small pathway that led to the creek was through the willows. There was a thick fog around them, settled just over the treeline, effectively dropping the visibility and hiding what lay beyond. The drizzle did nothing to dissipate the cloud of mist as it continued to fall, drenching them both as they took a moment to look around. The chill that pervaded was strong enough to penetrate three layers Joe had on him, and he hugged himself to preserve the body heat that was rapidly leaving him in clouds every time he exhaled.

"Wow," Frank said, rubbing the long sleeves of his hoodie. His voice wobbled and Joe could see that he was visibly shivering in the cold as well. "Talk about walking into a horror movie."

"Yeah," Joe snorted. "My thoughts exactly."

"To the creek?"

"To the creek," Joe nodded and took the lead, walking towards the small, cobbled pathway he knew by heart. He could hardly see it through the fog, but he figured he was on the right path when he avoided running into a trunk of a willow headfirst. Frank followed a few steps behind, their footsteps eerily silent on the wet soil that led them towards the small stream that flowed along the boundary of Morton's farm.

Joe saw what he was expecting to see, exactly where he knew it was. Chet was still on the ground and looked as if he hadn't moved for a while. Even though he couldn't see much from this side of the stream, the bright spot of flaming orange was easily spotted through the misty haze. The stream had swelled in size due to the constant rain they had been having for the past few days, and what used to be about a ten-foot walk across the water that barely touched their ankles, was now the size of a small river, about fifteen feet in width with water easily up to their knees. The only thing that kept the strong flow somewhat restricted was the line of piled-up rocks the Mortons had used to fortify the banks on both sides a long time ago.

"He's where he is supposed to be at least," Joe pointed at the unmoving figure.

"Both a good and a bad thing, I guess."

"Yeah," Joe had to agree. Good because they found him. Bad because that meant he was in grave danger. "Shall we, then?"

"I'll be right behind you."

Crossing the overflowing stream was an exercise that required extra caution and care. The pebbles underneath their already-drenched sneakers were slippery, and the current was strong, trying to drag them away from the opposite bank. Once they finally made it to the solid ground, they both hurried towards their friend and dropped to their knees next to him.

The wind started to howl as if protesting their presence. The birch, elm and oak trees around them started to strain as the strong gusts of wind picked up, surrounding them inside a growing whirlwind. Their branches creaked and twigs snapped ominously, as the two of them were battered with falling leaves. The fog managed to hang on despite the wind picking up speed, and the visibility stayed restricted to only a few feet in any direction, obscuring everything in a misty, gloomy cloud.

Chet was pale and unconscious. A quick check on his pulse revealed a weak, thready heartbeat. There were small cuts and bruises on the skin on his arms and legs, suggesting that their friend had stumbled his way here, almost as if he had fought all the way against it. The most concerning thing about him was the way all his veins seemed to have popped up very close to the surface under the skin on his neck, arms, hands and all over his legs. Worst of all, those veins were dark and looked as if they had black ink flowing through them instead of blood, making Chet look as if he had thousands of thin, wiry, black snakes crawling all over inside his skin.

There was absolutely no response from him when Joe shook him by the shoulder gently.

"Looks just like your hand when you touched that thing," Frank murmured, watching the strange, creepy sickness that was spreading all over their friend.

Joe stared at Chet, concentrating on the impulse in his mind, urging him to cut off the power supply to the raging vortex that was rapidly building around them before it was too late.

"I think whatever is responsible for this freaky wind is draining Chet's life," he said out loud, causing Frank's head to snap up in disbelief.

"What?"

"It's using Chet's life to make itself stronger," Joe murmured looking around. The hair on the nape of his neck stood up, and he felt as if he was being watched intently and in pure fury by something obscured in the wind and the mist. "Frank, you need to get him the hell out."

Frank's eyes narrowed in a scowl and Joe continued, without letting his brother voice his vehement protest.

"Look around," he said, waving a hand at the twister that was already increasing speed as it revolved around them. It looked like a white vortex with smudges of green and brown streaks due to the mist and the parts of the trees it already had caught in the wind currents. "The wind is picking up already, and before long, all three of us are going to get trapped inside another freaky wind column," he told Frank. "The more it drains from Chet, the stronger the twister gets."

Frank's anger turned into confusion as he kept staring at Joe as if he had grown another head. "Joe, what do you mean?"

"You can see many of those eel shapes blended into the mist," Joe said urgently, pointing. "They are watching and waiting."

Frank followed Joe's finger and finally spotted the wispy moving forms, almost seamlessly blended into the whirlwind. He swore viciously when he realised that they were being steadily surrounded by those unnatural things.

"This is crazy," Frank snapped after a string of colourful curses Joe had never heard coming out of his composed, polite and calm brother before. "And I just know you're planning to do something even crazier."

Joe grinned and inclined his head, acknowledging Frank's point before turning serious. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes," Frank's affirmation was immediate, even as his glower intensified.

"I'm going to try and draw this thing away, or distract it at least," Joe said, looking up at the most unbelievable force of nature that had them trapped once again. "You drag him away from this twister as far as you can the moment you see an opening."

"What are you going to do?"

"Exactly what I did the last time."

"Joe–"

"It worked then, but it won't work now," Joe said truthfully, knowing he was adding to his brother's worry. "This thing around us has already stolen too much energy from Chet to keep going," then he nodded at their friend's unmoving form. "He won't be able to continue for too long unless we cut him off from the drain."

He could almost see the wheels turning in Frank's mind as he considered what Joe was saying. It was also clear that he had plenty of questions about how Joe seemed to know these things. But he also knew that this wasn't the time or the place. The time was running out for all of them and they had to act.

"Whatever you do," Frank finally said, very reluctantly agreeing to Joe's suggestion. "Please be careful."

"I will. You too."